Moving On
by Halgerd
Summary: A one shot with George and Angelina after the battle of Hogwarts. DH compliant. Oh so lemony.


Moving On

George woke up with a start. Where was he? Why was everything orange? What was going on? Then it hit him all it once and he felt nauseous. He was at the Burrow, in Ron's room, surrounded by his Chudley Cannons paraphernalia. He was in Ron's room for two reasons: one, he kept crying in his and Fred's room because everything reminded him of his twin; and two, once he had moved in with Ron and Hermione it became a little too…crowded. So, despite his mothers protestations, they swapped rooms and left George all alone to grieve in private.

And he _was_ grieving. He hadn't slept properly in a week, since the battle, not to mention he had barely eaten (much to the worry of Molly) and barely spoken to anyone. There was a reason for all of this though: George simply did not know what to say. How did one respond to 'I'm so sorry that your identical twin died? How are you _feeling_?'. How did people think he was feeling? He felt like he died, that's how he felt. He felt like half of him was missing, that he'd lost it somewhere. At least fifty times a day he would go to tell Fred something, or be reminded of him, only to realize again that he was dead, that he couldn't tell him anything ever again. Every time it happened it was as if a wound was reopened, and George knew that the wound would never fully heal. It was as simple as a young man missing his brother, wanting him to come home, and knowing he never would.

As George got up and got dressed he began to mentally prepare for the days events. Today was Fred's funeral. Fred was the last of them, those who died in the final battle, to be buried. Yesterday they buried Remus and Nymphadora, and it had been rough on everyone. Harry most of all; poor guy was in tears the whole time, Ginny holding onto him for dear life, herself blanch white. George could sympathize, but no one but Harry knew what it was like to grow up without parents. His mother, Molly, had been steadily crying since the final battle, checking in on all of her children (who were all currently at the Burrow—even Fleur and Bill) at least ten times a day, as if they would leave her too. They all knew that with so much sadness there was also joy—the dark lord had been defeated for good, and they were going to be okay—but at what cost? His mother had lost both her brothers in the first war, and now her son in the second, was that too much to ask of one person? Or how about Andromeda Tonks? She lost her husband, daughter, and sister (as evil as she was) while almost losing the other sister. George was just torn with grief; all the laughter from his life had been ripped away.

The service itself was very beautiful, a perfect tribute to his brother. They had all cried, every Wealsey and all their friends and family. George felt that he should have spoke, said something for his twin, but he couldn't. He just kept scanning the room, seeing all the people there, all the people who had loved Fred and missed him and were sad that he was gone. There were so many, so many that loved him, and that made George feel a little better. However, his eyes kept looking over to Angelina Johnson, who appeared to be crying the most out of everyone. He has seen her in passing the last couple of days, she was at all the memorials. It made sense that she was so upset, after all, she was Fred's girl. Or, she sort of was his girl. The war separated everyone, made everyone go in a million different directions. He wasn't even really sure the last time Fred had seen Angelina, but that did not take away what they had together. Fred cared a lot for Angelina, a lot, and she of all people could understand how his family felt.

Even when she was crying, she was still beautiful. George has always thought she was very pretty, but she had been Fred's girl, so he just left it at that. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking she was beautiful, it felt like a betrayal of his brother's trust. But of course, Fred was dead, George reminded himself. He was probably too busy setting off fireworks in heaven and playing tricks on the angels to notice George scanning the room at his funeral.

After they put his brother in the ground, the family and their friends went back to the burrow for a little get together. There they all were: his parents, his brothers, his sister, and Hermione, Penelope, Fleur, Harry, Andromeda and little Teddy, Hagrid, other Hogwarts professors, friends of his father's from the ministry, some of their friends from school. So many people who had loved his brother so dearly, all at the Burrow. They had all settled in with their tea at various spots in the house when there was a knock on the door. His mother (who was flustered enough attempting to help anyone) went to get the door but George gestured to stop her.

"I'll get it mum," he said, "just sit back down". He smiled at her sadly and headed towards the door. When he opened it he was a bit stunned, because Angelina, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet were at the door. Not that it was inappropriate for them to be there, it was just surprising to see Angelina so close after he had been thinking upon her so intently. He said hello to Alicia and Katie, hugged them and welcomed them. Angelina held back, behind the other two as a gesture that she wished to talk to George privately. Katie and Alicia got the hint and went inside to offer their condolences to Arthur and Molly.

"Hi," said Angelina, "how are—", she paused, "the service was beautiful" she said finally.

"Yeah, it was." Replied Fred. They stood there, staring at one another, half in the doorway still with neither one of them moving.

"Angelina dear!" Molly called from inside, "Come in this house this instant! I'll make you some tea." It amazed George that even at a time like this his mother still managed to be… well, his mother. Something about that comforted him, made him think that the world might not be as upside down as he felt it was.

"Um, we better, go in…" Angelina said with a smile, and George could not help but notice that it changed her whole face, made her even more beautiful.

"Yeah, um, just head to the kitchen or mum will track you down. I'm sure the first thing out of her mouth will be 'eat something'." George smiled back and took her hand in his, leading her inside.

Angelina went off towards the kitchen and was, as George predicted, immediately cornered by his mother. Within two minutes they were both crying, holding one another; but as soon as they started they stopped, both laughing and smiling. Angelina left the kitchen, tea in hand, and much to George's surprise headed straight towards him as opposed to Alicia and Katie who were chatting with Ginny and Harry on the couch.

"You mum is amazing," Angelina said, "all of this comes crashing down on her, and she is still waiting on everyone, cheering everyone _else_ up. Bloody amazing." She smiled as she sipped her tea, and George noticed that her eyes were quite swollen. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had spent the last week in fits of tears.

"Yeah, she's something else, my mum. Its been hard on her though, she is just better today cause she's been busy, lots of people around and such…" he replied, averting looking directly into Angelina's beautiful brown eyes. George felt like a right git for thinking about her this way, but thinking about her meant he wasn't entirely focused on Fred, which meant that he could actually breathe for the first time in a week.

Angelina seemed mildly off put by his words. "Of course its been hard on her, I didn't mean—I wasn't implying that—I—" she stumbled.

"Angelina its alright. I know what you meant. I—I'm sorry for being snappy. It's just…hard, you know?" he replied, mortified that he had upset her.

"I know." She smiled again, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

"I had to see you," she continued, "I figured that if anyone knew how I was feeling—it was—it was you George." She squeezed his hand again.

"I—I know how much you cared about Fred," George whispered, "he cared about you a lot too."

"I know." She whispered back.

All of a sudden Angelina began to cry. In fact, crying was an understatement of what was happening to her. She began to shake, and gasp for air while tears poured down her face in steady streams. George acted exceptionally quickly. Rather than have her cry in front of everyone and subsequently start everyone (most importantly his mother) crying again, George pulled her close to him and apparated them both to Ron's bedroom upstairs.

"Angelina? Are you alright?" he asked, moving her to the bed so she could sit down. She took a seat on the bed and continued to sob, rocking back and forth and holding her arms close to her body. George was torn between crossing a line and comforting her, but decided that Fred wouldn't mind and so he put his arms around Angelina and rocked with her as she cried. After a while she stopped sobbing, and George noticed that tears had been leaking down his face. He sniffed, and rubbed his eyes with his hand to clear away the tears.

Angelina looked up at him. "I'm so sorry;" she said as she sniffed, "I made a fool of myself."

"No, not at all. It's a wake Angelina, people tend to cry," he rubbed her back, "besides, everyone has been crying and no one even noticed. It's not a big deal, really."

"I just…I just feel so helpless George. I see everyone out there and they are all crying and missing Fred and I miss him too but there is nothing I can do about it and there is nothing I can do to stop everyone from crying…" she was getting herself worked up again.

"Shh," George cooed, "its alright Angelina. I miss him too. Sometimes I feel like I should have died, like I shouldn't be here if he isn't here…"

"Oh George," she looked up at him, "don't say such things! I don't think I could take it if you left me too!" Then she kissed him, full on the lips, with more force than she might have intended. And George, full of grief and sadness and pain, kissed her back with everything he had inside.

They continued on that path; kissing and hesitantly touching, exploring one another as if they had just met. George put his hands through Angelina's curly hair, kissing her all over her face and neck. However, George had forgotten (or couldn't be bothered) to shave in the last week and he was tickling Angelina something awful.

"George," she giggled, "that tickles." She pushed him back gently, not discouraging him but signaling that maybe they should slow down a bit.

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning a most brilliant shade of magenta, "I shouldn't have done that. It's not right…"

"What?" Angelina asked, startled, "I kissed you, remember? I—I thought…" she looked down, it was her turn to be mortified.

"What?" George replied, "You—you thought what Ange?"

Him calling her 'Ange' caught her off guard; it was what Fred used to call her. For a second she became confused, maybe _this_ boy was Fred and it was George who had died. But no, her Fred was gone. Although they were quite identical, there were little differences between the brothers, and Angelina could tell with certainty that this was George. Besides, George had that terrible damage to his ear that had healed awkwardly and scarred badly, definitely marking him from his twin for the first time in their lives.

She didn't realize that she had been staring at George intently for over a minute without saying anything.

"Angelina?" he repeated, "you okay? I'm sorry—"

"Don't say you're sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for. That's all I've heard all week; 'I'm sorry this happened etc,' I don't want to hear it anymore. And if I've been hearing it a lot, so have you, so don't say it again, alright? There is nothing to be sorry for, at all, whatsoever." she looked into his eyes and smiled. He smiled back at her, grinning shyly.

"I miss him," George whispered, looking down at his shoes.

"Me too," Angelina replied, putting her head on George's shoulder, "But I—I didn't kiss you because I miss Fred. I kissed you because…because Fred is gone George. He's _dead_. And…he's not coming back. And…and it feels like someone took a hook and ripped out my heart and I know you feel the same way. I—I can see it in your eyes. So…so I kissed you because I know you understand, because I want to feel something other than horror and sadness…"

Before she finished her thought George took both of her hands in his and kissed her once again. They continued kissing, and as they got more and more passionate, they lied down together on Ron's bed.

In retrospect it amazed George how quickly they discarded one another's clothing. They fell upon one another those who had been starving for ages and now saw themselves in front of a feast. However, they were not without fumbling; George accidentally snapped two buttons of Angelina's dress and put a run in her stockings while Angelina put a tear in George's shirt and got quite a bit of lipstick on his collar. But, before they knew it they were down to their underclothing, George on top of Angelina and both of them panting rather heavily.

"George," whispered Angelina, "the door…"

"What?" George said, looking behind him, afraid that someone has seen them. This wasn't exactly the most appropriate time to be fooling around with your dead twin's girlfriend.

Angelina saw George's expression and stifled a giggle. "Silly boy," she said, "I meant _charm_ the door, so that no one can come in…or…you know…hear us…" she blushed at that last bit, her dark skin flushing.

"Oh… right…" George grabbed his wand from the nightstand table and quickly uttered a charm to lock the door and another to put a silencing spell around the room. He crawled back onto the bed and laid himself beside Angelina, propping himself up onto his elbow.

"There, much better." He said and smiled at Angelina, running his hands over her outstretched body.

Angelina responded to his touch eagerly, loving how George was making her feel, loving not feeling sad, lonely, or helpless. She reached over to him, pulled him back on top of her, felt his arousal pulse against her. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. George took the hint and together they removed the last of their clothing.

Angelina reached down and put her hands around George's arousal, positioned him just so, then reached around and put her hands on George's back. As she felt him enter her, she was reminded of a different boy in a different room not too long ago. "Oh George," she whispered into his ear, "we're _alive_. We're _alive_."

George did not know what to think anymore. Sensation flooded him beyond all comprehension. He didn't understand how he could feel so _good_ when a minute before he had felt so horrible. Here she was, Angelina Johnson, Fred's former girl, underneath him, their bodies connected, completely vulnerable to one another. He pulled out slightly before thrusting back inside her eliciting a moan from Angelina, and George decided right then and there that there was nothing _wrong_ about what they were doing. This was _right_. This was _good. _

After some initial hesitancy, they found their rhythm. Angelina dug her fingers into George's back while he planted kisses all over her face and neck. As their rhythm increased, George moved his hand to where they were joined and began to stoke Angelina along with his thrusts. Before long Angelina gasped, "Oh! George! I—I'm…" and he could feel her spasm around him. With her end came his and he collapsed on top of her, spent and happy.

They lay spooned together covered in Ron's heinous orange comforter for what felt like a very long time but in actuality was probably no more than half an hour. George has just begun to doze off when Angelina spun herself around to face George.

"Thank you," she said, "for the first time in a week I don't feel empty and lifeless…"

"Same." Replied Fred. "Hey, Angelina…this might be horribly inappropriate…but…did you and Fred…did you ever…um…" he said is hesitantly, as if he wasn't really sure if he wanted to see the answer.

"No… we didn't. You two took off with a bang during 7th year, and then…well…then the war happened and we sort of lost touch. Bill and Fleur's wedding came and went, Fred didn't invite me so I just assumed… The last time I saw him was at the battle. But…but that doesn't change anything…I still…I still loved him very much…We just…ran out of time…" a single tear fell from her face, and George wiped it gently with his fingers.

"We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone." Said George gently, kissing Angelina's fluttering eyelids.

"What?" giggled Angelina

"Some muggle from the 16th century my dad is always going on about. Shake-his-spear or something like that, dad is absolutely barmy about him."

"Well, its beautiful." Angelina said. They lay together, both of them lost in their thoughts, dazing in and out until Fred looked over to the nightstand and noticed what time it was.

"Angelina, um… I hate to spoil this moment…cause this is honestly the first time I've been able to think clearly in a week. But, we should probably head back downstairs, we've been gone over an hour and a half."

"Oh _bugger_. You're right…okay lets go."

They hopped out of bed and dressed in silence; the only sound was the occasional glance and giggle. They made themselves look more or less presentable. George grabbed one of Ron's shirts (which was a little too long) to replace the lipstick smeared one and they found safety pins to fix Angelina's dress. With a quick glance in the mirror they apparated back into the kitchen.

Fortunately for them, the kitchen was empty. Everyone was still more or less there, mingling around the living room and outside. George took Angelina's hand in his and they walked towards Charlie, Harry and Ron who were chatting in the garden.

"Hey George," said Charlie, grinning very broadly, "how you doin?"

"Alright." Said George

"Good," replied Charlie, "and you Miss Johnson?"

"Oh," Angelina said, startled that she was addressed so…formally, "I'm alright too."

"Uh huh. I bet you two are. Something tells me that Fred is looking down on you two from heaven positively dying, no pun intended, with laughter." As Charlie said this, both he, Harry and Ron burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" George said and looked towards Angelina. She looked as confused as he did.

"Well, us three saw you whisk Angelina upstairs and we came to check on you two and make sure you were alright. And…well…lets just say you were always rubbish at silencing charms." Said Charlie.

"Oh my God," said Angelina, "did anyone else hear? Did _Molly _or_ Arthur_ hear? Oh my _god."_

"Angelina don't worry," said Harry sincerely, "it was just us. We wont tell anyone, we promise." And with that final statement he elbowed Ron in the stomach to stop him from laughing.

"Right," said Ron determinedly, "We promise. It's in the vault."

George looked skeptically at his brothers, grabbed Angelina's hand and walked away. The second they left them; Ron, Harry and Charlie burst out laughing again.

"You have to admit," said Angelina, smiling and squeezing his hand as they headed back inside, "Fred would have found this _hilarious…_"

George smiled; because of course, she was right. George had no doubt that Fred was somewhere, doubled over in laughter…


End file.
